Page 76 of Hot for the Boss

Kicking my pants away, I stalk naked to my suitcase, conscious of her gaze on me as she follows. I hear her footsteps behind as I crouch to retrieve the box of prophylactics. Then I toss it on the coffee table and grab a fuzzy white blanket off the back of the couch. Ignoring the wrinkle of confusion between her brows, I spread it out on the living room floor.

“What’s that for?” she asks.

But her voice sounds suggestive, challenging. She knows exactly what I want. “On the blanket. Hands and knees.”

Nia looks between the furry throw and my face. She must see the resolution there because she draws in a shaky breath, for the first time looking nervous. “What do you have in mind?”

“Did I forget to mention that I’ve fantasized about spanking you?”

Chapter Twelve

My words ring through the room. Long moments of silence pass.

Nia bites her lip with a little shiver. “You didn’t mention that.”

“Now I am. Will you let me?”

She doesn’t answer with words, simply walks to the middle of the blanket and drops to her knees in a graceful slide. Next, she falls on her hands and arches her back, lifting to me.

I almost lose my fucking mind. That ass. It’s right in front of me—juicy, taut, round. And between her legs, I see her pouting pussy, wet and plump and dark with need.

I fall to my knees behind her. Keeping my hands off her flesh is too much to ask. As if they have a mind of their own, my palms glide over the small of her back, down her butt in a caress that should tell her exactly how much I covet her, then dip between her thighs. Yes, she’s as drenched as she looks.

Bending to her, I whisper in her ear, “Do you like being spanked?”

“M-Maybe.”

That tells me nothing. I need more information to proceed, and my patience is thinning. My hands are shaking. My cock stands up, stretching desperately as if I haven’t had an orgasm in months, rather than minutes.

“Explain,” I demand.

“I’ve only done this twice. Once, it was…” She shakes her head. “Wrong mood, I guess. Too playful, maybe? I giggled the whole time.”

“I’m not feeling playful.”

Nia turns her gaze over her shoulder at me. “I know.”

“The second time?”

“It hurt. A lot. He was angry.”

I glower, my hand tightening protectively on her flesh. “No man should ever hit you in anger.”

“That’s why it’s the last time he ever touched me.”

Gnashing my teeth, I resist the urge to ask who and when and where to find this prick. I want to beat the shit out of him. I want to make sure he understands that he should never have touched Nia at all, much less in any way that hurt or scared her.

“Evan…” Her gentle voice sounds like she’s talking me off a ledge. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

“I’m fine.”

“He doesn’t deserve to breathe.”

That makes her smile. “He was an insecure, immature asshole, and that’s why we’re done now. Let it go.”

I’d rather not, but I understand her point. This is about us.